


To Be A Good Father

by detri



Category: Fate/Zero, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Aphrodisiacs, BDSM, Blackmail, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dirty Talk, Drugged Sex, Emotional Manipulation, Grinding, Gun Kink, Humiliation, Kirei should be enough of a content warning on his own tbh, M/M, Non-Consensual Blow Jobs, Non-Consensual Kissing, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Slavery, Sharing a Bed, but like nonconsensually, time alter used for unorthodox purposes, wow it just keeps going
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-06-29 10:36:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15727674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/detri/pseuds/detri
Summary: This was the arrangement Kirei had forced upon him if they were to both stay and live their daily lives in Fuyuki: he would pay Kiritsugu no mind. He would leave his new family and his new life alone. But now and then, every few weeks, Kiritsugu would become his.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this fic will have at least three chapters, but no overarching plot, more like out-of-sequence PWP episodes that I'll write whenever I feel like it--so step in and jerk off
> 
> ...and also enjoy the tidbits of peaceful fluffy Emiya household life I've sprinkled in bc KIRITSUGU IS A GOOD AND CUTE DAD

“Shirou. I've got some business to attend to tonight. Taiga will help put you to bed. I'll be back in the morning.”

Those were the words Kiritsugu had left his adoptive son with. Shirou had nodded attentively and gone back to building a city out of blocks. He was a good kid, diligent and reasonable for his age. He always bickered with Taiga when she came over but Kiritsugu knew he wouldn't give her any real trouble. They got along well deep down.

A lump formed in Kiritsugu's throat. They were both good kids. They deserved to grow up without any worries, without any more than the fire had caused.

He'd make sure they did.

Kiritsugu walked through the Fuyuki streets that were already emptying of people as the sun set on a weekday night. He didn't carry a suitcase or anything else—even his pockets were empty. He wore Western-style clothes, a dark suit he had worn for years and an overcoat that still smelled like cigarettes and gunpowder. And he didn't wear underwear. That was part of the agreement he had made.

He entered the Fuyuki church silently. The door had been left unlocked for him. And, like he had so many times, he made his way to the back rooms, to the living quarters that had been prepared for the priest.

From the small kitchen he heard running water and the clinking of silverware. After a moment, a man emerged.

Kotomine Kirei was drying his hands on a towel. He looked at Kiritsugu once and smiled, nastily, in a mockery of hospitality.

“Welcome, Emiya Kiritsugu. Excellent timing. I just finished dinner.” He returned to the kitchen, folding the towel and putting it away. “Strip,” he called.

Reluctantly as always, Kiritsugu began removing his clothes, still standing in the hallway. Kirei didn't have any interest in watching anymore, but he still made Kiritsugu do it every time. Dressing like this was ultimately pointless.

He should be used to it by now, but being naked around Kirei would always be terrifying. The way Kirei looked at him, like he was undressing him with his eyes, never stopped—as if he was taking him apart even when he was bare, dissecting him.

Kiritsugu stood in the hallway, his clothes piled beside him. Kirei emerged from the kitchen again and leered at him.

And offered him a cigarette. Kirei liked for him to smoke when he was here. It brought him closer to the man he had been, the man he wished so badly he could bury forever, but that Kirei kept digging up just to torment him.

It was something to focus on, so Kiritsugu took it and let Kirei light it for him.

“It's getting cold, isn't it?” Kirei said as if Kiritsugu had come over of his own volition and wasn't naked.

Maybe it was. Kiritsugu hadn't noticed, but either way, he wasn't about to answer to this man.

“The church is awfully drafty. I was thinking...Kiritsugu, you could keep me warm tonight.”

Kirei watched Kiritsugu for a reaction, but Kiritsugu didn't even know what kind to give him. He kept his face blank. That could mean anything. Kirei liked to keep him guessing: some nights, he'd make Kiritsugu fellate him, or grind between his closed thighs. Other nights, he'd make him do laundry or sweep the floor.

This was the arrangement Kirei had forced upon him if they were to both stay and live their daily lives in Fuyuki. He would pay Kiritsugu no mind. He would leave his new family and his new life alone. But now and then, every few weeks, Kiritsugu would become his.

Kiritsugu was used to compartmentalizing himself and becoming a blank slate when he needed to do the unspeakable, but he could tell Kirei was trying to break him.

“I'm going to work on some sermons for next week. You're going to come to the study with me and sit by my feet. Understand?”

Kiritsugu nodded.

“Say 'yes, sir'.”

“Yes, sir,” Kiritsugu muttered.

They sat in Kirei's dimly lit study while he wrote. Kirei offered him a glass of wine. Kiritsugu declined—the wine had been spiked with something once.

Kiritsugu was on his third cigarette when Kirei idly petted his hair and began to speak to him.

“You are aware, of course, that I will oversee the next Holy Grail War.”

It was just talk. Kiritsugu inhaled burning ash as Kirei stroked his hair.

“That means I have a direct line to the Einzberns.”

_Please don't talk about them._

“By this point, I may know more about your daughter than you do.”

Kiritsugu had already tried to return to the Einzbern castle twice, determined to take Illya back to Japan with him. But as punishment for his failure to retrieve the Grail, the old Einzbern head had strengthened the bounded fields around the castle and shut Kiritsugu out of the loop. Illya was more or less a hostage of her own relatives.

Thinking about it made his throat tighten and his chest hurt.

Kirei stroked Kiritsugu's cheek, still not looking up from his work. “What if I told you—I could work on bringing her here to Japan? As a reward for good behavior.”

Kiritsugu's breath caught audibly and he choked on cigarette smoke.

“Of course, it would bring her closer to me as well...” Kirei finally looked down and met Kiritsugu's eyes, and Kiritsugu tried to wipe the glow of hope from his face. “You'd like that, wouldn't you? Kiritsugu.”

“Yes,” Kiritsugu said.

“Illya and Shirou could meet. They could become like a real brother and sister...your little family would increase by one. You wouldn't have to have your heart split between two continents anymore...”

Kirei kept petting Kiritsugu like a dog, and Kiritsugu tried not to notice that the priest's pants were getting tighter—he didn't try to imagine what Kirei was really thinking about as he spoke.

He took the cigarette out of his bone-dry mouth and tried to summon up some saliva so he could be ready when Kirei demanded service. A pang of shame went through him. He _was_ Kirei's dog.

Kirei laughed. “You're so eager to see her again, aren't you, Kiritsugu? But I still haven't decided yet. Dealing with the Einzberns might be more trouble than it's worth.” He rose from his seat. “I think I'll sleep on it. Come to bed with me, and lay next to me. If you're good and quiet, then...well, we'll see what the morning brings.”

He left the room, and Kiritsugu took a moment to collect his shaky limbs before he started to follow him.

He wasn't naive. He knew Kirei would never do anything just to be kind to him, and from the start he had never accepted anything that seemed too good to be true. However, he actually wouldn't put it past Kirei to use his authority to get the Grail Vessel moved to Fuyuki, just so he could keep an eye on it...and if that vessel was Kiritsugu's daughter, then that would be just a bonus. Illya would be just another bargaining chip to Kirei, he had no illusions about that. But that was just it: since she did have value beyond the sentimental, there was a real reason Kirei might want her, so he couldn't dismiss this as empty talk. Either way, he would keep his assumptions in check. Just focus on the task ahead of him, and get through the night.

But he hadn't seen Illya in so long. Had she grown? Was her health getting worse? If she was left on her own in that cold, frozen castle, could she preserve the spark of human warmth that had burned so brightly in her the last time he had seen her, two long years ago? He had no guarantee that she was even alive.

Kiritsugu cried easily, but he steeled himself before he stepped into Kirei's bedroom. Tears excited the priest. He had learned that in the worst possible way.

Kirei was kneeling, at prayer. Why the hell was someone like that praying? Kiritsugu couldn't imagine he actually believed in God. He skirted around the man. This bedroom was small and spartan, almost like a closet. The bed took up most of it.

When Kirei finished praying, rising as he made the sign of the cross, he pulled the bedsheets back and looked back at Kiritsugu. Kiritsugu understood he was meant to get in first.

It was a small bed only ever intended for one person, and one side of it was up against the wall. When Kirei climbed in after him, Kiritsugu was between the wall and the priest's body with far too little room on either side. Just breathing felt like it was taking up too much of his space.

“Don't be shy, Kiritsugu,” Kirei said mockingly. He was much closer than Kiritsugu had ever wanted him to be. His voice was a deep whisper, with a quiet intimacy that made his skin crawl. “Here.”

He slid his hands to Kiritsugu's hips and pulled him flush against him. Kirei's body was hot and too close.

“I told you I wanted you to keep me warm, didn't I?”

Kiritsugu nodded. _It's fine, just get through it._

He knew he wouldn't get any sleep tonight. His body was on high alert, like a prey animal that knew it was being hunted. It was helping him survive. Sleep was vulnerability, and it was very, very dangerous to be vulnerable around this man even for a second.  He doubted Kirei would be sleeping either.

They lay in the dark for any amount of time. This room was windowless and the darkness was pitch. The church creaked and settled around them, but Kiritsugu could barely hear it over the pounding of his own heartbeat.

By this time Shirou was surely in bed, fast asleep. Unless he and Taiga were up late watching monster movies again. Kiritsugu remembered the time he had come home early and the two of them jumped and scrambled to turn off the tv, guilty little partners in crime—they were up long past bedtime but he still couldn't help but smile, they had looked so funny in that moment—

He felt Kirei nuzzle against him and press their bodies together again. Kirei's erection was straining against his pajama pants, against Kiritsugu's naked thigh, he could feel it all too clearly. He screwed his eyes shut, not that it made any difference in the dark.

Shirou had started packing his own lunches for school. The kid was a regular chef, he loved helping out in the kitchen. And his eyes lit up when he got to hold the knives— _got to watch out for that one, he's dangerous_ , Taiga had said, and made a little growl for emphasis. He just liked pretending they were swords.

A rustling under the sheets, and then Kiritsugu felt Kirei's cock throbbing against his bare ass, free of any clothing, growing harder with each passing second. Kirei licked Kiritsugu's ear and neck and Kiritsugu wished he could speed up time, not just for himself but for the world outside him too, to make this pass quicker. He felt like his skin was trying to crawl away from the places Kirei touched. But it was fine. The bed didn't change anything, this wasn't anything that Kirei hadn't done to him before. Even if it made him feel like a child whose trust was betrayed by a parent, he had experienced things far worse than this, and he could—

Without any warning, two cold, slick fingers slid up his ass.

Kiritsugu couldn't help but give out a short, sharp cry. Kirei laughed.

“Did I surprise you, Kiritsugu?” This close, Kiritsugu could feel Kirei's voice rumbling in his chest, as he could feel the man's breath on his wet neck and ear. He scrambled to collect the shattered pieces of the mask of composure he had put on, tried to keep Kirei from picking up on the fact that—he really hadn't thought—he had been doing this for two years, he hadn't thought that this was—he was so stupid to not be prepared for this, to think that Kirei wouldn't—

He found it hard to breathe for a second, and realizing that made him miss another breath. Then another. _Get it together._

“You're so warm,” Kirei said. He slid his fingers in deeper. “And tight.” He let out a little appreciative moan that made Kiritsugu dry heave. “It's like my fingers are being sucked in.”

Kiritsugu wasn't doing it on purpose. He wanted those fingers out, now, take them out, take them out so he could think—

“I wonder if I should taste this pleasure,” Kirei mused. “What else do you think I could put in here?”

“Stop,” Kiritsugu choked. He didn't want to find out, not tonight, he'd sucked Kirei's cock and swallowed his cum and let him put out cigarettes on his skin and masturbated for him and worn whatever kind of humiliating outfits Kirei could find for him, he'd gone along with fucked up roleplays and even kissed him, but he didn't want to do this.

“If you said something just now, I didn't hear it.” Kirei forced his fingers in deeper, as far as they would go, and Kiritsugu felt them brush against something. He realized that he was stiff with fear, and Kirei's other hand grasped his hard cock firmly and surely. “I believe I told you to be silent, anyway.” He whispered again. “ _Think of Illya_.”

Kiritsugu tried to stop from protesting as Kirei's thick fingers stroked that spot inside of him that heightened his treacherous, panicked arousal, massaging it with dutiful thoroughness. Kirei's weight was shifting in the bed more and more, Kiritsugu could tell that soon he'd be pinned under this impassive monster—

But it was fine. It was fine it was fine, he had seen so much worse. Kirei was pinching his cock shut and trying to make him cry out, but he would be silent.

Because he loved his daughter, the only fragment left from the life he had destroyed with his naivete.

Because he loved his son, the cornerstone of the new life he was protecting from Kirei.

Kirei took his hand from Kiritsugu's aching cock. He slid his fingers out, too fast, and Kiritsugu buried his face in the pillow to muffle a sharp intake of breath.

Before he had time to register it, Kirei penetrated him.

Kirei's cock was thick and felt wrong inside of him, a foreign object jammed in an unprepared hole that had never been meant to accept it. Kiritsugu whined into the pillow once in disgust and bit down on it, using it as a gag so Kirei wouldn't hear another noise out of him. He could taste cotton fabric and the essence of countless nights that his rapist had laid his head down here, to sleep undisturbed by guilt or regret or second thoughts of anything he had done, the lives he had taken and the pleasure he had gained from it, like with Iri, he was being raped and laid low by the man who'd killed Iri, he swallowed a wave of bile that tried to rise up in him as Kirei shoved into him over and over again and forced his head down into the pillow so he struggled for each panicked breath. He didn't want to think about his children now but he made himself do it so he wouldn't give in, or try to fight back. He grabbed fistfuls of the bedsheets as if trying to tear them so he wouldn't tear into Kirei instead. Kirei was panting and grunting over him, holding Kiritsugu's hip with one hand, so hard that it would surely leave a bruise. The other hand stayed near Kiritsugu's head, as if he was thinking of crushing his skull.

“So stoic. This love for your family is what you tried to throw away, Kiritsugu—“ Kirei's breath hitched. “I hated that...Maybe I can still hate you. Show me. Show me if I can still hate you.”

Kirei took one of Kiritsugu's hands in his and held it in a vise, pressed it up against the headboard as he fucked him. And as he fucked him, he grasped the fingers and yanked them back, in a way joints were never intended to bend.

Kiritsugu felt, not heard, the cracking sound. But he heard the ragged sob of pain that escaped him. And Kirei did too.

Kirei came inside of him, then pulled him back down into the bed so they lay together, sweaty and unclean. Even in the dark, even facing away, Kiritsugu could tell Kirei was smiling.

“I think she'll stay in Germany.”

With just that short sentence, Kiritsugu crumpled like a tin can. Kirei was there to hear it.

\--

He rose when Kirei did, which was early. He hadn't gotten any sleep, as expected, but his mind had left him. By the time he mechanically picked his clothes off the floor in the hallway, and dressed, it still hadn't come back.

Taiga had to leave for school early. That was the thought that carried him as he walked away from the church, back to his home, though his legs were cramping in a way he had never experienced before. He had to stop a few times, and be careful he was walking normally.

When he came home, he shook Taiga awake from where she lay in the living room, and limped away before she could realize he was there. He took his clothes off as if they were burning him and took a shower that lasted much longer than usual. He had to get it all out. Get all the filth Kirei had left behind out of him. He didn't feel like it would ever come out.

His legs gave way while he was standing there and he didn't know why. He had been having occasional trouble with that lately. Sometimes he would find himself unable to lift heavy objects, or stand up when he had been sitting. It always passed after a while. But this time, his face burned, because it felt like Kirei had done this to him. He lay in the shower and the water roared past his ears. When he could stand again, his legs were shaking. He was careful not to fall again.

Even with that trouble, he was still able to make breakfast for Shirou. Part of him wanted to tell Shirou it was a holiday, or school had been canceled for some reason, but it was better if his son's life was as normal as possible. If he noticed his father was wavering, or seemed anything less than in perfectly good spirits, he'd get worried and wouldn't be able to concentrate on his homework for the next day. Shirou was conscientious like that. And making sure he didn't have too much to worry about was Kiritsugu's job.

He was content with that. This was his job now. Parents suffer to protect their children. And if he had failed at being a hero he could at least be a good father.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'know what I don't even know why I'm pretending I didn't have two chapters written by the time I started posting this, here's chapter 2
> 
> This one actually takes place before chapter 1 but I wrote chapter 1 first because I wanted to Kick Things Off With A Bang

“I'm going to beat you next time! It's not my fault you're so tall.” Shirou pouted.

“Yeah, yeah.” Kiritsugu ruffled his son's hair and Shirou huffed as he put his practice sword away. “You sure you don't want to try again?”

“Ha ha. Real funny, old man.” Shirou had taken Kiritsugu up on his offer of a rematch five times already this morning and been soundly defeated every time. He was improving, though—Taiga would be excited by his progress too, next time she came to visit. _You need to grow up so you can join our kendo team already,_ she had told him last time. _Then I can kick your ass in front of everyone—_ Shirou had tried to punch her in the leg. But she'd kept him at arm's length and he'd struggled against her like a cartoon character trying to run in place. Kiritsugu couldn't help but smile at that.

“You want me to make breakfast?” Shirou asked him, jolting him back to the present. “I can make eggs. Like, I can make  _any_ kind of eggs.”

“With supervision,” Kiritsugu reminded him.

Shirou huffed. “You don't have to watch. I'm not gonna burn the house down.”

It was early spring, but just warm enough outside that Kiritsugu left the door to the courtyard open. This was what he and Shirou did every Sunday morning: rise early, have kendo practice, and then cook breakfast together. Though, lately Shirou was more and more insistent that he cook by himself. Eventually, he'd be driving Kiritsugu out of the kitchen altogether.

“ Why don't you just relax and let me take care of the work?” Shirou pestered him the whole time he cooked. “You can go sit down, Kiritsugu.”

“You don't have to turn the heat up that high. Be careful.” Kiritsugu hovered over his shoulder anyway.

After breakfast, Shirou ran off to the garage—after doing the dishes, of course. Kiritsugu didn't say anything about it.  Shirou was much more passionate about magecraft than Kiritsugu was comfortable with, but as long as he kept it discreet and didn't get too ambitious, Kiritsugu supposed it was fine. Besides, Shirou was way too stubborn, and too young, for it to be worth arguing with him about.  Maybe eventually he'd give it up on his own.

Kiritsugu sat on the porch with a cup of tea, looking out over the courtyard. There was nothing better for him to do, and no better way to spend a spring morning. He hadn't ever thought, years ago, that he was even capable of living this kind of life. Idly enjoying the weather and the budding flowers, wearing a kimono—well, no matter the path his life had taken in order to get here, it was fine to just enjoy it now. Dwelling on why he was here wasn't worth it. Living a calm day-to-day life was more than he could have hoped for, and more than he deserved. He just wanted to stay like this. Taking care of Shirou, letting the strength in his limbs and the sharpness of his eyes dwindle away, becoming just a peaceful, ordinary father, that was all he needed and all he wanted anymore. His world could be happily contained in just this courtyard.

The doorbell rang.

Kiritsugu sighed and slowly rose to his feet, and went to answer it. It was a little early for Taiga to visit, but maybe she was trying to grab breakfast...she'd be bitter about being late, and she'd probably just sit in the dining room and watch tv for hours...not that there was anything wrong with that, but the vapid babble of variety shows was annoying…

When he opened the door, a tall black shadow filled his vision. His heart stopped for a moment.

It was Kirei.

“What are you doing here?” Kiritsugu hissed, adrenaline surging through him, unconsciously readying him for a fight. “You can't come here. You said—“

“I know what I said. In fact, I was just thinking about it,” Kirei said. “ I was taking a walk, and found myself in the neighborhood, and—“

Kiritsugu opened the drawer of a table in the entrance hallway, and pulled out a pistol. He couldn't help having things like this around. He'd never be able to get used to a life without them.

Kirei laughed. “Are you going to shoot at me? Really? Now, Kiritsugu. I just came to say hello.”

Kiritsugu leveled the pistol at him. “Leave us alone,” he said, his voice slipping into the low, dangerous, quiet tone that had gone unused for so long.

Kirei put his hands up in a gesture of surrender, but took a few measured, taunting steps closer, over the threshold of the house. “Kiritsugu, please. You wouldn't want to mar a lovely Sunday morning with the sound of gunshots, would you?”

“Don't you have to be at church or something?”

“Today's service is over, Kiritsugu.” Kirei took another step, so that his chest bumped against the barrel of the gun. “Don't you have a child 'or something'?” he said mockingly. “Are you going to blow a man away in the front hallway with a child at home?”

Kiritsugu's grip on the gun wavered. “What do you want?”

“The same thing I always want, Emiya Kiritsugu.”

–

Kiritsugu led the priest through his home, feeling as though his feet were made of lead. The gun was still in his hand and Kirei was on the edges of his vision and it felt wrong, it was all wrong, these things were not supposed to go together. These lives were n ot supposed to mix. He tried not to let Kirei see as his eyes darted to the shed in the courtyard, he couldn't let Kirei know Shirou was in there, he didn't want Kirei to ever meet Shirou or even know what he looked like, that would be too dangerous, and he had let his guard down too far already. Why had he trusted the priest to even keep his word about not coming to his home? He hadn't ever even told him where it was and he'd thought he had disguised his magical signature well enough, had  Kirei really gone out of his way to find it through word of mouth? 

He slid open the paper door to his room and let Kirei in, then closed it after them. They stood there. Kirei looked around but it seemed nothing caught his interest. There was almost nothing in this room, after all. Kiritsugu had few belongings.

“Let's do this quick,” Kiritsugu said, but Kirei cut him off.

“Give me the gun.”

Kiritsugu did not want to give him the gun. He wouldn't fire it, he didn't want to kill Kiritsugu or disturb the peace just yet, but just the exchange of power inherent in giving him the gun was terrifying.

Silently, Kiritsugu passed it into Kirei's outstretched hand.

“Good boy,” Kirei said. He tucked the pistol into the back of his belt and backed Kiritsugu against the farthest wall of the room, pinning him against it with just the repulsive force of his presence. He looked over him with dark, soulless, but calculating eyes that made Kiritsugu sick when he looked into them.

He dragged one finger down Kiritsugu's neck, over his collarbone, pulling aside his kimono to bare his narrow chest.

“Look at you. You're a real Japanese beauty these days, aren't you?” He leaned in closer, and placed one deliberate, possessive kiss on the side of Kiritsugu's neck. “Let's get this off.”

He pulled Kiritsugu into his arms, kissing and sucking on his neck and collarbone, while slowly pushing the kimono off his shoulders with far too much reverence. Kiritsugu hung in his embrace like a doll. It was best to give in, to be as quiet and compliant as possible, especially here. If he could make this boring, Kirei would leave without much damage done. Or that's what he was hoping.

Kirei was going to leave marks on his neck. He was definitely trying to. And Shirou wouldn't know what they were, but Taiga probably would. Kiritsugu's face burned, but he tried not to say anything.

Kirei's hand wandered between Kiritsugu's legs, finding its way into the folds of his kimono and brushing against his boxers. He tsked and pulled away.

“Underwear, really?” he chided. “Kiritsugu, please.”

“I'm not going to just...not wear underwear all the time,” Kiritsugu muttered.

“Let's get these off.” Kirei tugged Kiritsugu's boxers down his legs and guided him to step out of them. “Now...” He took Kiritsugu's limp arms and placed them around his shoulders in a reluctant facsimile of an embrace. “Hold onto me.”

Kiritsugu obediently gripped the back of Kirei's coat, not letting himself wonder about what would come next. Kirei undid his belt buckle, and before pulling his cock out, took the gun in hand again.

“Put your legs around my waist.”

Kiritsugu did, lifting himself completely off the ground, and Kirei easily supported him with one arm. Kiritsugu's disheveled kimono did nothing to protect him from exposure, and it had quickly become little more than a bundle of fabric, draped over his forearms and belted at the waist.

Kirei pointed the gun at Kiritsugu's head. “Now kiss me.”

Kiritsugu's mind was too empty from the moment of the gun being aimed at him to even be disgusted by the order. He wasn't afraid of guns, of course. He was afraid of Shirou walking in and seeing his father being threatened by a strange man with a gun.

He leaned in, bending slightly down to kiss Kirei from where he perched in his arms.

It was a dry, emotionless kiss. He hated when Kirei kissed any part of his body, and he had never kissed his mouth before. He'd hoped this would never happen. But the instant their lips made contact, Kirei's hand was on the back of his head, forcing them together, and when Kiritsugu opened his mouth, afraid for a second that they would fall over, Kirei's tongue invaded it. But he could tell, Kirei still wanted him to take the lead. He didn't want to take this kiss from Kiritsugu, but to make Kiritsugu give it to him.

Kiritsugu did, clumsily, his hands shaking as they grasped Kirei's hair. He wasn't good at this at the best of times. He had stopped smoking so he could kiss Iri but even then he had never felt like he'd understood it. Maybe, by starting late, he had missed some secret lesson of adolescence. Anyway, he didn't think he could please Kirei. Especially with his mouth this dry from nervousness.

Kirei let him keep making a fool of himself for far too long, what felt like minutes. Then he pulled away, and instead guided something new into Kiritsugu's mouth. It was the gun.

“I'm going to put you down now,” Kirei said, in a low voice. “And you're going to pleasure this gun like you do with my cock.”

Kiritsugu's face burned, and he nodded. Kirei gently set him on the tatami floor and held the gun for him, at waist height, and Kiritsugu rose to his knees and accepted the gun into his mouth again.

It tasted—cold. That was all that registered to him when he wrapped his lips around it, and when Kirei pulled him from its tip and guided his lips up the shaft. Up the barrel. Gunmetal was so cold, and heavy even when you were used to it. Kirei jerked his head up, and Kiritsugu knew to look at him. Kirei's thick cock was hard, and totally exposed, but he wasn't touching it. He was just watching Kiritsugu profane his weapon. He smiled.

“Do you like this, Emiya Kiritsugu?” He methodically turned the gun, wedged it sideways into Kiritsugu's mouth, so his teeth clacked and scraped against its iron-y taste. “You were an assassin for years. Maybe you always liked guns. Did you?” He yanked on Kiritsugu's hair and shoved the gun further down his throat, making him gag. “Maybe they made you feel powerful. Maybe...they reminded you of long, hard cocks, and you couldn't get enough of them.”

Even if his mouth hadn't been full, Kiritsugu would never dignify something like that with a response. He knew the priest wanted to get a rise out of him—but more than that, he was sure Kirei got pleasure out of just hearing his own voice say such things.

“Is that how it went? Maybe just firing them off was enough for you. Maybe you spent years, killing, and killing, and justifying it to yourself, and every time you pulled the trigger...”

Shit. He hadn't been paying attention. Had Shirou come in from the shed? Was he inside? Kiritsugu couldn't remember. He would have noticed something so important, right? Kirei's talking was only just loud enough to drown out the faintest of sounds, like a child's feet thumping on the wood porch, and heading down the hallway.

“Do you like cock, Kiritsugu?” Kirei asked, pulling the gun to the front of his mouth again. “I think you do. I suspect, that even through the years of your idyllic domestic life, with that beautiful wife of yours, there was some restlessness you couldn't place, and it's only now, drooling at my feet, that you understand it.” He took his cock in hand and stroked it a few times, coaxing precum to bead at the tip, guiding its bright pink head to Kiritsugu's open mouth. He wedged it in beside the gun and, though for a second they were both there at the same time, pulled the gun away and let it drop unceremoniously to the floor. Kiritsugu closed his lips around the head and obediently, unconsciously, started sucking. “You're so eager for it...Say you love my cock.”

He started to pull away, but Kirei had him by the hair.

“Don't take it out of your mouth.”

Kiritsugu's cheeks burned red-hot with shame. He was hardly able to enunciate anything and his mouth filled with drool, but he managed to mutter, “I-I love your cock.”

Kirei closed his eyes, and a blissful grin marred his face. “Amazing. You never cease to delight me, Emiya Kiritsugu.”

Kiritsugu tried to swallow around the thing in his mouth, and, as he rested back on his heels, trying to get in a good position to coax Kirei to completion, he heard the door to the courtyard clatter shut.

He froze. Kirei did too, listening.

“Hey, I fixed a pipe today,” Shirou's voice called through the house, carrying easily through the paper screens. “There was like a little crack in it and it went away—Kiritsugu?”

Kiritsugu's eyes darted to Kirei, trying to get a signal from him; Kirei was still listening.

Shirou's sock feet creaked on the boards of the hallway, towards Kiritsugu's room. “Hey old man, where'd you go?”

Kirei nodded, giving him permission, only when they could see the shadow of Shirou's feet under the door. Slowly, Kiritsugu pulled Kirei's cock out of his mouth. He swallowed.

“Sh—“ No, he shouldn't say his name. “I'm—I'm a little busy right now.” His voice felt so shaky to his own ears, and he hoped it didn't sound like that to Shirou. “Don't come in. Please.”

Kirei grasped his hair again, and rubbed the shaft of his cock against Kiritsugu's lips, and Kiritsugu felt like he was going to vomit as he waited for his son to respond.

“Ohhhkay?” Shirou said. “Geez, I wasn't going to.”

He was still standing on the other side of the door. Kiritsugu tried to ignore as Kirei fondled his cock, smearing the precum across his face. “We can—do something later. Okay? Just...don't get into trouble til then.”

“Alright,” Shirou said. Kiritsugu could tell he was dubious, but didn't care enough to ask more questions. He still stood there, maybe listening.

“Go play in your room, alright?”

“Yeah, okay.” Shirou's footsteps receded down the hallway. Kiritsugu tried to take a deep breath, but it shuddered as he drew it and his heart was beating so fast he felt like he couldn't move. Kirei chuckled.

“You found an obedient boy. Can you imagine if he _had_ come in?”

“Stop,” Kiritsugu said, with a harsher edge than Kirei liked.

“I won't stop til we're done here.” Kirei pumped his cock a few times, prodding Kiritsugu's mouth open with its wet tip. “So why don't you put that mouth to work for me, hm, Kiritsugu?” When Kiritsugu slid forward, trying to swallow it down to the base and finish him faster, Kirei let out a low moan. “What a good boy. You're such a slut, aren't you?”

_Shut up_ , Kiritsugu thought. He tried to work Kirei's cock as quickly and methodically as he could, trying not to let himself catastrophize about what Kirei was doing, although he knew exactly what the priest was hoping would happen—or, what he was trying to bait Kiritsugu into worrying about, at least. The walls were so thin here.

“There's no need to rush,” Kirei chided, petting his hair. “Savor it. I know you love how it tastes.”

_Shut up shut up shut up._ Kiritsugu was taking a risk by presuming, but he started using his hands along with his mouth, concentrating on the head while stroking the shaft with one hand and grasping Kirei's balls with the other. Kirei's cock twitched and jumped in his mouth and Kiritsugu kept working, just trying to be discreet. Kirei grunted and cursed under his breath with every movement.

“Here, come here.” Kirei pushed on the back of Kiritsugu's head and Kiritsugu gagged again. “Take it all the way...Good,” he groaned. “I'm going to cum down your throat.”

He did exactly what he said he was going to do, and then he let Kiritsugu off of him, slowly. A long trail of saliva followed as his cockhead left Kiritsugu's mouth. It broke and landed on the tatami.

“You actually made me very happy today, Emiya Kiritsugu. Rejoice.”

He would do no such thing. Kirei tucked his cock away and buckled his belt.

“I hope you raise your son to be as self-sacrificing as you. As compliant. As eager to please.” Kirei's eyes had a glint of malice in them. “After all...It just might happen that our paths will cross someday.”

Kiritsugu couldn't help it. His fist swung out and caught Kirei in the thigh, half-heartedly, thoughtlessly. He regretted it before the impact even hit.

But it didn't phase Kirei at all. He just laughed and patted Kiritsugu on the head again. “Shall I see myself out?”

“No,” Kiritsugu muttered. He shakily rose to his feet and called down the hallway, clearing his throat and swallowing the taste of cum before he spoke. “Hey! I know someone who needs to take a bath.”

“On a Sunday morning?” Shirou's voice shouted back incredulously.

“It's been three days. I better hear that water running in five minutes.”

He waited, standing behind the door for what seemed like an eternity before he heard Shirou leave his room and head off to the bath. Then another eternity before he heard the water turn on.

“Come on,” he mumbled to Kirei and, trying to pull his kimono back together, walked him to the front door. Kirei didn't immediately leave, but hesitated at the threshold. “Get out of my house.” His voice rose, but he was still afraid to speak in anything more than an undertone.

“It was a lovely visit. I'd like to return the favor—next week, at my place.” He smiled yet again, the smile that had been so ubiquitous to him since he had initiated this blackmail and made Kiritsugu his. “We'll have some wine...I'll see you then.”

Kiritsugu just nodded. He stayed in the doorway, slumped against the frame, until he was sure Kirei had left. Only then did he realize how tight his chest had been. He was terrified. He had been terrified this whole time. It was always like this. He would never be able to kill the part of him that feared for his family, and because of that fear…

He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and pulled his kimono tighter around him. _Please don't let Shirou be like me._


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I update this super sporadically, but hey guess what! I have a plan for where it's going now!
> 
> This is the third of five chapters! Please look forward to chapter four whenever I end up writing it.

It was time to buy his freedom yet again. Kiritsugu walked quickly on the last leg of his journey to the Fuyuki Church, getting more nervous with every step. That was how it always went: he left his house with an empty mind, and as he traveled, carrying himself closer to that awful place, he remembered. The capriciousness of the priest. The sadism that, even after years, Kiritsugu couldn't understand. The carefree way he initiated acts Kiritsugu could hardly even conceive of. When he was with Shirou, carrying out their daily lives, it was like he could tuck these memories away, along with the years of bloodshed he had bundled in the back of his mind the first time he had become a father, and the wretched Holy Grail War that had taken everything from him. He knew his agreement with Kirei had terms, but Kirei had broken them before, just to get a rise out of him, and he was sure that if he didn't live up to some standard of entertainment only Kirei understood, the terms would be broken again. Every time Kiritsugu left home, he was afraid he would come back without something. Either a body part, or maybe some chunk of his soul.

He entered the rectory off to the side of the church without knocking. Kirei would be expecting him. He didn't even announce himself, both because there was no need and because he was sure his voice would falter.

Kirei was in the study, writing something, drinking a glass of wine. Kiritsugu stood in the doorway, lingering in the moment before Kirei knew he was there.

“Aren't you going to take your clothes off?” Kirei asked, without looking up.

“Right,” Kiritsugu muttered, and started taking off his suit. Kirei set his glass down, and turned to face him, watching as Kiritsugu stripped down to nothing.

“I'll never get tired of this,” Kirei said. “The humiliation of baring yourself to me, and giving yourself to me, is the least of what you deserve, Kiritsugu. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Kiritsugu said.

“Crawl to me.”

Kiritsugu sank to his knees and, with his eyes never leaving the ground, crawled to Kirei's feet. This was one of the worst things. Not being allowed to wear clothes when he was here was bad enough, but crawling on the floor, on all fours, like he wasn't even human—that was really the worst. And he knew Kirei could see it in his face. So he looked down.

He sat back on his haunches when he reached Kirei's shoes. Kirei reached over, to get something on the desk, then with one hand he tilted Kiritsugu's chin up, making him look at him.

“I picked this out especially for you.”

_Please don't let it be another dress._

“Look, I'll even open it in front of you.” Kirei set a bottle of wine on the floor in front of Kiritsugu, and uncorked it for him. It was an untouched bottle, with a label in Italian. Kiritsugu wasn't an expert on wine, and he didn't particularly care what kind this was. He could tell it was red, at least. “And here—“ Kirei set a golden bowl in front of him, probably one that came from the church. “--is what you can drink it out of.” An air of mirth was unmistakable in his deep voice.

He poured the wine, and Kiritsugu, after glancing up at him to see if he had permission, lowered his face to the bowl to drink it.

Drinking out of a bowl was...hard. It was impossible to do neatly, and it was hard not to slurp. He could hear Kirei laughing at him as he tried, kneeling down with his ass in the air and his hands uselessly splayed on the floor on either side of the dish—when he raised his head he could feel its wetness on his nose and chin. Kirei pushed his face back down into it, with his foot.

“Finish it all, now,” he said. “Lick it clean.”

Kiritsugu was almost grateful Kirei's foot was forcing his face to stay in the bowl, because he was sure it was burning red. _You bastard,_ he thought. _You disgusting smug bastard._

“Good job,” Kirei said, taking his foot off and letting him raise his head again. “I hope you're going to thank me for what I've given you.”

“Thank you,” Kiritsugu said, with as much venom as he thought he was allowed to.

Kirei laughed to himself again and turned back to whatever he had been writing. Kiritsugu's fists balled up in anger. He hated this. He hated this man. He hated having to come here, and be treated like an amusing toy or a pet, and having to go along with it every time, just to placate Kirei on the off chance that he _might, someday_ , decide to ruin his and Shirou's life, just for fun. Just because he could. Kiritsugu had fought to destroy evil every day for years, thrown all his chances for happiness away because of it, and now he was playacting a dog at evil's feet, and he couldn't do anything about it. His face burned with anger.

His face wasn't the only thing that was burning. Kiritsugu felt a spike of shame when he realized that somehow, something about his impotent rage had made him aroused. He shifted, and put his hands in his lap, trying to hide it from view. _God damnit, not now. Please, not now._

Kirei seemed to be paying him no attention. Kiritsugu tried not to think about it, hoped this problem would go away on its own. If Kirei saw, he couldn't even imagine what it would lead to.

He couldn't not think about it. His cock begged for attention. Even just his hands trying to cover it, to force it down between his legs, was too much stimulation. He caught himself wondering for a second if he could get rid of it discreetly, without Kirei noticing—no. No, he couldn't entertain that thought, wasn't even sure how it had entered his mind. He wasn't an idiot. He could ignore it and wait.

Even the feeling of the air on his bare skin drove him crazy. What was this? He never got like this. Even back when he was younger, he was sure he had never felt like this. He felt one of his hands grinding his cock against his inner thigh, as if it was moving on its own volition.

The wine. It had to have been the wine. Kirei, making such a show of opening it in front of him, saying without saying that it hadn't been tampered with, as if there wasn't any way to change the contents of an unopened bottle with any number of spells—

He realized how obvious it had become that he was touching his cock, and when he glanced up at Kirei, Kirei was looking back at him.

“Enjoying yourself?”

“Y-” Kiritsugu tried to hide the obvious again. “You did something to me.”

Kirei smirked, then let out a laugh again, hiding his mouth with his hand. “What makes you think that?”

It was unbearable. Kiritsugu felt like he was on fire, and even with Kirei's eyes on him, he had to keep going. He stroked himself far more roughly than he usually did, but it didn't feel like enough. He gathered saliva and spit into his hand, in case that might work better, fucking his hand as it wrapped around his cock, down on his hands and knees again, not able to think of anything but the torment he was in and how badly he needed to get off, feeling shame but not being able to stop himself even when he heard Kirei laughing at him. He cursed under his breath, needing more, wishing there was someone to touch him—when Kirei knelt down next to him Kiritsugu practically sobbed. He knew he wouldn't be able to deny if Kirei asked—

“Do you need some help, Emiya Kiritsugu?”

He nodded, and Kirei gently brought his lips to his and kissed him, and pried Kiritsugu's hand off his cock and replaced it with his own. Kiritsugu thrust into his hand and ground against him, letting Kirei's tongue invade his mouth, he hated kissing but this wasn't kissing, this was something much more depraved. He moaned into Kirei's mouth and Kirei worked his cock with one big, sure hand, using the other hand to pull them together, Kiritsugu's shivering naked body against his dark clerical robes. Kiritsugu felt his hands grip Kirei's back, feeling like even if Kirei tried to pull away he wouldn't be able to, he needed Kirei's help to deal with this, he was literally so aroused he couldn't do anything about it. It felt like his blood, his nerves, even his Magic Circuits were stimulating him just by existing. Pain like this was beyond anything he had ever felt before.

He knew he couldn't allow himself to be at this man's mercy. Already he had made a fatal mistake just by letting Kirei close to him. He should have just run. He should have crawled away on all fours and hidden somewhere until it passed, punishment be damned. But he couldn't have. He could tell, the way this poison worked, as long as it was coursing through him—

Kirei had loosened his grip on him now, and was licking his neck, and it was too hot and Kiritsugu lay there on the rug that was too soft and too coarse at the same time, powerless to move. He felt himself letting Kirei go, just a little, just enough so the priest could take one of his nipples into his mouth and gently bite it—

He came. Just with that, he came, and Kirei looked down at his dark clothes where Kiritsugu had splattered them.

“Look at what you've—“ he started to say, but Kiritsugu was already wiping it off, with shaking hands, murmuring apologies under his breath. Kirei could punish him after, he wasn't done yet. The poison was still burning him, he was still feverish and the smell of Kirei's clothes was goading him to come again. He couldn't come again. He couldn't wait that long.

“Time Alter, Double Accel,” he mumbled into the rug. And he felt his heartbeat, his breathing, everything, speed up even further than it had been. He had to keep his eyes closed. This technique was sickening even when he was in top condition.

“Emiya—“ he heard Kirei say, or he thought that's what he heard, the blood was pounding in his ears, and then the priest touched him, lay a warm hand on his flank, and just that contact was enough to get him rock hard again.

Kirei laughed and it sounded distant and horribly distorted. Kiritsugu felt himself being rolled over onto his back and then the priest was moving in the edges of his blurry vision, as he kept his eyes focused on the ceiling, trying not to pass out. How long would this poison remain in his bloodstream? He could only keep this up for a few minutes at a time. Time Alter put a huge strain on his body. If the poison's effect lasted more than a few hours, then he might kill himself before he got it all out. That couldn't happen. Shirou needed him.

Just then, as if vying for his attention, Kirei licked his cock.

Kiritsugu gasped sharply. His head spun. _Keep it together, stay awake,_ he goaded himself, as Kirei tortured him with long, teasing licks all along his shaft, licks that seemed even slower and more torturous in his accelerated state. _Ride it out._ _Just wait for it to end._ Kirei never fully took his cock into his mouth, just seemed to consider it now and again, letting his kisses linger on the head of it, letting his breath fall heavy and hot on the wet skin. Kiritsugu clung to consciousness. His eyes wouldn't focus anymore, and with every quick-thumping beat of his heart he worried it would give out. He felt himself tugging weakly on Kirei's hair. _Faster_ , he thought in a ragged voice. _Please—_ _I'm going to d_ _ie—_

Instead, Kirei stopped completely, and laughed again, harder than Kiritsugu had ever thought him capable of laughing, bent double on his knees over Kiritsugu's hard cock.

“Is it really that awful, Emiya Kiritsugu?” he said, trying to collect himself, trying not to burst into laughter again. “You poor, poor thing...just stop using that spell on yourself if it's that bad.”

It had nothing to do with Kirei, but at that point, Kiritsugu called off the spell, and his battered consciousness sharply deccelerated. Even his poisoned elevated heartbeat felt strangely slow now.

“What?” he said, as if awakening from a dream.

“Did you not realize? You told me to be faster,” Kirei said, grinning. “You said you were going to die—“ He couldn't hold back the laughter anymore. Kiritsugu saw tears in the corners of his eyes. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry, but I never could have imagined you'd show me something so wonderful. I wanted to see you with all your defenses down, but that was utterly adorable.”

He crawled over Kiritsugu, and when Kiritsugu tried to look away, he grabbed his face with fingers that felt like a vise.

“I want to see more of that cute side of you,” he said. His voice felt even lower than normal, even more intimate, even more dangerous. “Show me a vulnerability you never showed even your wife. Even your mother and father. I've tasted blood, Emiya Kiritsugu.” He let go of Kiritsugu's face and retreated slightly. “So to speak.”

Kiritsugu watched warily, still aching to cum, as Kirei eased backward, until his clothed ass was dangerously close to Kiritsugu's cock.

“What if I were to let you put it in, Kiritsugu?”

Right before Kiritsugu's hazy eyes, Kirei unbuttoned his pants and slid them off, baring black boxer briefs that seemed to barely contain the huge cock that Kiritsugu was all too acquainted with.

Kirei sat back, so that Kiritsugu's hard cock rested just against the cleft of his ass, and slowly started to grind back and forth.

Kiritsugu's vision swam again. It felt like he had no blood left anywhere near his brain, because somehow—like an idiot—he was thinking about it. To be able to thrust up into hot, tight flesh—to have Kirei milk him dry again and again like that—he knew all too well how muscular every inch of Kirei's body was. The double training of the Holy Church and bajiquan had trained him into the controlled killing machine that he was, and even when he was doing something like this, it was obvious that he was a monster of discipline. Kirei's clothed balls were heavy against his skin and even as hard as he was he made no move to relieve himself. _I bet he could go all night. I'm certain of it._ It was a cruel parody of their intertwined fates, that Kirei was his only match again tonight, too.

_I can't._ He checked to make sure he wasn't saying it out loud. Then, Kirei's grinding coaxed an involuntary whine out of him, and he made himself say it.

“I can't...”

“You can't what, Kiritsugu?” Kirei seemed to put his whole huge muscled weight into tormenting him, and Kiritsugu felt like his cock was trying to find the way in, like it instinctively knew there was something to penetrate.

“I can't do that...I won't...” Kiritsugu saw himself in his mind's eye panting like a dog in heat on the carpet, but tried to be convincing.

“Are you sure?” Kirei pulled his boxers down further, and Kiritsugu felt the magecraft in his system make his brain short out when his skin touched bare skin.

_So close. I'm so close._ “ I'm...sure...” Kiritsugu's breath caught in his throat as Kirei ground against him. “Stop...”

“Beg me to stop,” Kirei breathed, looking down at him. He seemed to fill the whole dim room.

“Stop...” Kiritsugu gasped, as Kirei effortlessly dedicated his whole weight to grinding into him, to pushing him over the limit again. “Stop...”

“More. Say it again.” Kirei seemed to be in a kind of trance, like he was as intoxicated by Kiritsugu's words as Kiritsugu was by the poison, and as he moved Kiritsugu accepted the horrible realization. They were having sex with each other. This wasn't an inflicted act but a combined effort. It was the first time. “ Beg for me, Emiya Kiritsugu.”

Kiritsugu feebly shook his head. “No...” He screwed his eyes shut so he wouldn't have to see Kirei's face warp and blur across his whole vision. “Time Alter, Double Accel.”

He remembered very little after that.

\--

He woke up on the floor, dried cum splattered all over his body. The lights were out and Kirei was nowhere to be found.

He sat up with a start, and every part of his body cried out in pain from it. _What time is it??_

Kiritsugu crawled across the carpet, towards where he was pretty sure his clothes had been, though it took him a second to orient himself in the dark. They were still there. Gingerly, he started to dress himself.

There were no windows in this room. He had no idea whether it was still night or morning. That gave him the energy he needed to force his battered body out the door and down the hallway.

The rectory was cold and dark as the grave, as if no one even lived here. Maybe Kirei had left. Kiritsugu knew that much, that sometimes he would just disappear and not even be in Fuyuki anymore. It was little comfort, since Kiritsugu was certain it couldn't be for good reason.

When he pushed open the front door it was into clear morning sunlight. It was sometime between seven and nine am, he guessed, and because he didn't know he had to come home as soon as possible. A bus would take too long, though he knew it would be better for him to take one. Instead he walked, with the singleminded purpose of the former killing machine he had been, occasionally fixing the misaligned buttons he had done up in the dark. When he crossed the threshhold of his house his knees nearly gave out. Especially since Taiga was there, in her school uniform, surely after her classes had started.

“Kiritsugu!!” She rushed to support him, though he tried to force her away.

Shirou came running when he heard her voice. “Geez, old man, where'd you go?” He tried to grab onto Kiritsugu's coat and Kiritsugu pushed him off, not thinking of the rudeness of it but only of the dried cum on his skin and how his clothes rubbed against it and reminded him that he had no idea what had happened last night. He didn't want his children to touch him.

“You should be in school, shouldn't you?” he croaked.

“I swung by to get breakfast and you weren't here. And Shirou was kinda freaked out so I didn't want to leave him by himself either. You can skip school for stuff like this, y'know?” Taiga said. Shirou nodded. “Where were you? Did something happen? You look sick.”

“No. It's fine. Don't worry about it.”

“Do you want me to make you some tea?” Shirou asked.

“No, I think you should go to school.”

Shirou pouted and hovered around instead of preparing to leave. Taiga did exactly the same thing.

Kiritsugu sighed. “Listen, it's nothing to worry about, it's just...well, it's kind of embarrassing, alright. I went to go get something from the store before Shirou woke up, and I must be coming down with something, because I ended up getting lost.” It was a terrible lie. It was made even worse by the fact that he wasn't sure whether he would have been gone in this scenario for twenty minutes or two hours. “I didn't even get what I came for.”

The kids' tension dissipated before his eyes. Shirou huffed like an exasperated parent.

“I can stay home and take care of you,” he offered.

“I can call some of grandpa's guys over to run your errands for you,” Taiga added.

“No, I—don't worry about it, alright?” He tried to smile reassuringly but felt like the effort just made him seem more tired. “I'm going to take a shower, then maybe get some sleep. I'm sure that's all I need.”

“...You sure?” Shirou said.

“Yes,” Kiritsugu said, with an implied “so don't try to get out of going to school today” attached.

As soon as he was safely in his room, he took the Western-style clothes off as if they burned him, then waited until Shirou and Taiga were out of the house before emerging to head to the shower. He didn't know how much of the filth that covered him was his own and how much was Kirei's. He didn't want to think about it. He didn't know how long last night had gone on, how long he and Kirei had been entangled past the point where his memory had ended. He didn't want to think about it. What he had said and done, if he had said or done anything, it was all thankfully locked behind a door in his mind he didn't want to open. The things he knew had happened were bad enough. The fact that Taiga and Shirou had been late for school because of him, that they had seen him in his Western clothes, that he had had to lie to them and they knew the lie was bad, it was all dirty enough. Kirei would never see and would never know that these things, just the smallest, unvoiceable things, were bad enough, and that already Kiritsugu had enough cracks in him to be more vulnerable than he had ever been.

He hoped he never figured that out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kirei is the most powerful bottom in the world and he can snap a man's dick off with his ass. He learned it from Gilgamesh but he has surpassed him
> 
> By the way, the chronological order of the chapters is 2 > 3 > 1 so far. I'm thinking the completed order will be 5 > 2 > 3 > 1 > 4.


End file.
